Chapter 6

When Wolfram heard that he was going to have his dinner early and alone in the dining room because he was a small child, he marched himself into Gwendal's office, threw a screaming fit, and set the curtains on fire.

One hour later, he was sitting happily on Gwendal's knee in the dining room, just as he had always done. Both sitting in the same chair, Wolfram made sure to perch himself on the same spot on Gwendal's knee so as not to annoy his big brother too much. Little did he know that he was cutting off Gwendal's circulation and the big brother was wondering how long it would take to get the feeling back in his toes.

Little Wolfram watched the room. It seemed that everyone around the table was waiting for someone. He wasn't sure who it was. Yes, waiting. No one was eating. The food was being placed on the table in large platters. The enticing smells reached his button nose.

"I'm hungry," Wolfram whined to no one in particular.

"Hush," Gwendal said. "You'll eat soon enough."

"But, Mother's already here. So, why can't we?"

"I said 'hush' and I meant it."

The child looked at him doubtfully. He pouted. Nope, it didn't work on Gwendal this time. Fine. Be that way. This was a total and complete bore. He leaned back dejectedly against his big brother who quickly enough wrapped one protective arm around his shoulders and held him close. Wolfram smiled at that. Yes, his brother would growl at him, but he was kind, too. And Wolfram liked that. He kicked his stubby little feet at the table legs, making the table cloth flutter up. It was fun.

Within minutes, Yuuri and Greta entered, holding hands.

Everyone in the room turned to look. That's when Gwendal stood up, took the blond child by the shoulder, and steered him toward Yuri.

"Wolfram, this is Shibuya Yuuri. He's the new maou. Can you say hello to him?" he asked. The tone was stern. As crabby as he was from feeling hungry, Wolfram knew better than to fight it and get his big brother mad at him. Still…from looking at this stranger…

Yuuri smiled a little. The medicine must be working because he looks much older. Now, I guess, he looks like a five year old on Earth.

For a second, emerald green eyes sparkled. They seemed to ask, "Are you flammable?" Then, he got a sharp nudge in the back. He dropped his gaze. No, he couldn't have fun…no fun at all. In a bored tone, he said, "Greetings. My name is Wolfram von Bielefeld and I am the third son of Cecilie von Spitzberg. It is my extreme pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

This time, Yuuri was prepared for him. "Hello, Wolfram. You can call me Yuuri. We've met before."

The blond child looked up to his big brother and shook his head "no." "I don't remember that…or him," he said sincerely.

Yuuri laughed nervously. "Well, we did. And it was fun talking to you." The double black intentionally decided to avoid mentioning the little bit of baseball practice that they had. And, he made a mental note to always wear a cup when practicing with Wolfram.

"You remember me, huh? Well, of course," young Wolfram answered back, arms folded and flashing a slightly mischievous smile.

It feels good to see that, Yuuri thought. "Well, I'm glad you could join us for dinner." Then, he added, "You're looking older, too. Kind of a big boy, huh?"

"Well," Wolfram replied with a slightly pouty tone, "speaking of 'old'… I don't know why Gwendal and Weller look so old."

At the table, Cecile and Anissina snickered behind their napkins. Greta grinned openly and looked to see if Gwendal had developed another wrinkle on his forehead. Yuuri motioned for her to sit down in her seat. She did. Günter was also amused, but tried to hide it by taking a very long sip of water from his goblet. Gwendal tried to ignore the comment. It was the best that he could do under the circumstances and his brother was still an adorable little child, after all.

Taking Wolfram's shoulder again, he steered the boy back to his usual place at the table, next to Yuuri.

The only two people who didn't seem amused by this at all were Conrad and Yuuri. The double black noticed the sigh coming from his godfather. But, more importantly, he noticed the term was "Weller" instead of "brother." And, from judging by the cold stares that Wolfram threw in Conrad's direction, the rift between them had already taken place—in Wolfram's mind, at least.

Wolfram must hate him for being part human, Yuuri thought. Conrad and I have talked about it a few times... So, how will he treat me, I wonder?

The double black took a sip from his goblet and thought about it. Right now, Wolfram was a boy who, in Yuuri's opinion, only lived in the present tense. He felt more than just a little sad about that, too, because nothing that he had done with Wolfram so far had become a memory. I can spend time with you…be a part of your day…but it doesn't stay with you. And I'm getting a little tired of introducing myself each time you get older. He frowned deeply at that.

"Excuse me... Can anyone find the salt? I can't seem to locate it," Günter asked in an overly dramatic way. He turned his head right and left. There was just too much food on the table.

"I know what's lost," Wolfram said offhandedly while putting a huge spoonful of something bright orange with noodles stuck in it on his plate, "I can't seem to find my room."

Cecile's smile dimmed a little at that. "Well, dear…you sort of…moved out of my…um…our quarters…a long time ago. So, I turned your old room into…"

"A sewing room for your dressmaker," Wolfram said tartly. He started to shovel food into his mouth without tasting it.

"You've been staying with me lately," Conrad said cautiously. It got him another hard stare from a pair of green eyes.

"I don't think so," Wolfram said with an edge in his voice.

Wolfram took a breath and held it. The pain was back. This time, the blond child's side began to burn horribly. He pressed his palm against it and hoped that the feeling would go away soon. For some reason that he couldn't recall, he knew that he had been sick and needed to be medicated. The pain continued. It was killing his appetite. Wolfram pressed the place where the pain was and felt the fresh bandages through his clothes. How did this happen to me? For the life of him, he didn't know what he did to deserve it. But, if he wanted to be a soldier someday, he'd have to get used to sucking it up and soldiering on.

"Well, you can stay with me and Greta," Yuuri offered.

The voice snapped young Wolfram's mind to the conversation that was going on.

"Yes! Sometimes, I sleep with Yuuri and…" She caught Yuuri shaking his head "no" hard. "Oh, I see…right," she said. I almost said "Yuuri and Wolfram." Oops…

Wolfram saw them both looking slightly distressed. And there was something they weren't talking about—hiding. He could sense the bad acting job that they were doing. And, by the looks of the other adults at the table, they were going along with the lie as well—whatever it was.

Fine, if you can keep secrets, so can I. He pressed his hand against his side a little harder.

Then, a thought occurred to him. Wolfram cocked his head, confused. "Who is Yuuri to you?" he asked the girl without an once of warmth in his voice. Clearly, her features were not Mazoku. They seemed human to him—a human, but a harmless one. The new maou seemed to be a half-breed. His features being part of one race and part of another. So, Wolfram had no idea what their connection could be.

"Yuuri is my father." She beamed at him, proud of her daddy.

Yuuri felt a little embarrassed with all of the attention that suddenly went his way. He laughed and put a hand behind his head.

Again, the blond boy watched the faces of everyone at the table—including his mother's. They were fine with the Demon King's little human "princess." So, it would be for the best to accept it, as they did, and act accordingly. "Oh," Wolfram sighed, the wind taken out of his sails a bit. He was going to tease her a little for being too familiar with the new maou. "It must be nice to have a dad. You're lucky," he said and put another spoonful of orange goo into his mouth.

Conrad and Gwendal locked eyes across the table. Then, their gaze drifted to their mother. No one in the dining room said anything. It was an awkward, uncomfortable silence that lasted throughout the rest of the meal. The sound of sporks hitting the plates seemed to be deafening. And the goblets being refilled with a sloshing sound didn't make it any better.

Wolfram noticed it and was certain that this was all his fault, too. Maybe, just maybe, demanding to eat with them was a mistake in the first place. He leaned his elbow on the table and rested his head against his palm while slurping down a citrus colored noodle as loudly as he could.

This meal sucked.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Conrad turned and walked down another corridor with rushed but even steps. He looked into open doorways. Still nothing. He continued on his way.

"Conrad?" Yuuri said, coming out of the library with Greta in tow. "Is there a problem?"

"Gwendal and I can't find Wolfram. It's probably nothing, Heika." Conrad tried to fold his arms casually, but the double black could see that his godfather was deeply worried.

"That's 'Yuuri.""

"Yes, of course…"

"We'll look, too!" Greta said excitedly, clasping her hands together. "I know all of his favorite places."

"Okay," Yuuri said and watched her skip down the hallway, happy to help.

"It may not be as easy as she thinks," Conrad replied, keeping his voice down in the hallway even though the two of them appeared to be alone. "When he was little, Wolfram had a thousand hiding places. And we really need him to go to bed now." He knew what Yuuri was going to ask next. He added, "Gwendal has offered to take him for now. We don't think he'll want to stay with Mother." Conrad's mouth was a thin line.

Yuuri nodded. "I'll help, too. We'll find him."

Conrad sighed as the two of them walked down the next hallway.

"Y-You don't think he ran away, do you?" Yuuri asked hesitantly even though it really was the kind of thing he'd do.

"Maybe…I don't know," Conrad said. "Probably not."

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at this. It wasn't like his godfather to be so uncertain about things. Then again, for many years, Conrad had practically raised his baby brother. There was a bond between them, even if the blond didn't always accept it.

"Let's split up. You go to the east and I'll take the west."

They nodded and walked away from each other.

"Now…where would a five year old looking Wolfram go? But, on the inside, he's not five. But, he's still a kid…" Yuuri murmured to himself. He checked each room and closet that he came across. "Okay…there's the kitchens…" Yuuri poked his head in. There was nothing. Then, he noticed a tray of cookies left on the counter. They were the "Dark Side of the Moon" cookies that he liked—crunchy, vanilla wafer on one side and dark chocolate on the back. Oddly, brown and white crumbs were heading out of the kitchen—something the royal cook would never allow. Smirking to himself, Yuuri followed them. He took several steps, lost the trail when it turned a corner (thanks to a breezy hallway) and continued up a long flight of stairs.

Almost immediately, Yuuri knew where he was going. He pushed back the heavy door. It groaned as it opened. Candles burned in the sconces. In the far part of Wolfram's art studio, the blond child was perched on a chair in front of an easel. On the chair next to him, there sat a handkerchief with four cookies and pieces of a broken "fifth" on it. Behind him, making a beautiful backdrop, the doors to the balcony were open and the waxing moon hung in the right corner.

"Heika?" Wolfram said, lifting his head.

"That's 'Yuuri.' You sound like your brother, Conrad, when you say 'Heika' to me." He approached casually, his hands in his pockets.

"Oh," the blond child said tiredly. "I sound like Weller, huh? I'll have to stop that. It's too human."

Yuuri moved around and saw that the canvas in front of him was still white, pristine.

"Were you going to paint?"

"I was…but…" He cast the cookies a short glance.

"Did you want a cookie break instead?" He leaned in further and smiled. He tried to see Wolfram's face. There seemed to be something wrong, but in the flickering candle light, it was hard to tell.

"I'm not hungry," the child said simply.

Yuuri said, standing closer him, "Is something bothering you?" Like what was said at dinner tonight?

Wolfram's life lesson number three, Yuuri thought, don't tell people what's really bothering you. It makes them pity you.

"Actually…" Emerald green eyes regarded him for a second. Can I trust you? But you're so human-looking. Wolfram took a shaky breath and pressed his hand against his side—trying to make it look like he was casually leaning his hand on his hip instead. "I feel sick."

Yuuri's dark eyes widened a little. He went over to the chair and counted the number of cookies. "How many of these did you eat? I found you from the trail of crumbs you left in the hallway. You probably have a stomachache from all this."

"Zero. I thought I wanted to eat something, but…I really don't." I guess…I can tell you. You're the king. He tilted his head up at Yuuri and then lifted his shirt. "I hurt here." He pointed to the bandages. "It burns. And I'm tired, too." The child swayed a little on the seat.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri kneeled next to the chair. "How long have you been feeling bad?"

"Before dinner…I started feeling bad. Now, I feel…tired...really tired…and my body feels like it's burning."

Trying not to panic, he took Wolfram's hand. "You know, I think we need to pay a visit to Gisela and have her look at you." The boy stared back with a vague expression on his face. "Wolfram?" He shook his shoulder and the child's attention snapped back, as though he'd awakened from a daydream. "We're going, Wolfram," Yuuri said in a more forceful tone, his heart beating harder.

The double black took two steps and felt a weight pull him down. Looking back, he was shocked to see a blond body sprawled out on the floor.

"Wolfram!" he shouted.

The child tried to move, but it took effort. It was slow and he pushed himself up.

"I've been trying to leave here…for awhile," the blond child said, "but I'm just too tired to walk." He was drooling a little and he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Yuuri reached down. He scooped up Wolfram and held him close, leaving the art studio with quick strides. Yuuri didn't even bother to shut the door behind them. Sluggishly, the child's arms moved around his neck and the blond closed his eyes briefly when everything seemed to be moving away from him much too quickly.

"Yuuri?" came the small voice.

"Wha-? I mean, 'yes.' Sorry about that." He walked faster. Running might jostle the boy too much.

"Will you wait for me?" He question was barely above a whisper.

"Wait?"

"Will you wait for me…to grow up?" He buried his face against the double black.

"I don't understand," Yuuri returned, distracted. He needed help right now!

"I'm sorry I was bad at dinner tonight. When I grow up, I'll be a soldier. I'll protect you. And I'll make all the right decisions." The child held on to him. "I'll be perfect…for you."

"Wolfram? We're finding you help…right now," Yuuri said in a shaky voice as he stepped quickly down the stairs at a half-jog. It was when he felt Wolfram's small body relax in his arms that he had a sudden flashback to Wolfram doing that very same thing when he'd first gotten back, when the arrow was still inside of him. Yuuri shifted the child in his arms. A blond head was now resting against his chest and he supported the legs with the other arm.

His skin looks yellow. Jaundice?

"Wolfram? Talk to me, Wolfram!" His voice was shaking now.

Yuuri could feel his own legs moving swiftly down the hallway, the child cradled against his chest. It wasn't fast enough.

His mind flashed back to another time when he was holding Wolfram. But, it wasn't this Wolfram—the child. It was his Wolfram, the fiancé who didn't look a day over age sixteen even though he was eighty-three right now.

The double black walked quickly down the next hallway. The child in his arms groaned.

The memory was hazy, but they were in search of a flowering herb—the minadia. He recalled that there was blowing snow. It was cold. Yes, he remembered the blinding cold and the thought that he'd never feel warm again. There was miasma in that frozen realm that created distrust in the minds it came in contact with. And, even though Wolfram was exposed to it, and distrusted his own brother, the blond did trust Yuuri—and vowed to protect him. But, Conrad and Yozak were overcome with the miasma's effects and began to battle with their swords. And there was an avalanche. Then, when all hope was lost, the Demon King within him came out. Of that, Yuuri was sure. Finally, when everything was over, he stood there with the blond in his arms. He had Wolfram back. They were back together. More than ever, he craved that feeling again.

But, now, it was slipping away with each step that he took.

"Gwendal! Conrad!" Yuuri called to them. He could see the brothers at the end of the hallway not far from Gisela's quarters. His voice startled them out of the deep conversation that they were having.

Then, they saw.

"Wolfram!" they both shouted as they ran forward. Their faces were terrified.